The Paramonos of War
by AalisEliza
Summary: Surviving a war on the front battle lines leaves scars, but not all of them are visible. Surviving the aftermath is often worse than the initial trauma.
1. Granger's Mistake

**PARAMONOS** (m) Ancient Greek  
Derived from Greek _παραμονη (paramone)_ meaning "endurance, constancy".

 **Chapter I**

 _New South Wales, Australia_

It had been a mistake to go to Australia. Hermione continued to revisit the decision she'd made to come here in a vain attempt to understand her current predicament. Her mind jumped back to arriving at Hogwarts, and befriending the boys. Followed by the second rise of Lord Voldemort, and her decision to go hunting for his horcruxes. In an effort to keep her parents from becoming casualties or used against her, she wiped their memories, and sent them to New South Wales, Australia. Then she left with the boys. After their adventures-surviving Malfoy Manor, Godric's Hollow, Diagon Alley, and the Battle of Hogwarts-it was safe to go find her parents.

Both of the boys encouraged her to go when she mentioned it to them. Ron had even volunteered to accompany her, and Harry jumped on the idea immediately. She said no. It had been her decision to go by herself, and right her wrongs. Hermione couldn't fathom finding out that her spell work was irreversible in front of them, but she could easily imagine Ron's tactless response, "Glad I don't have your brains."

There was no doubt in her mind that Harry would add her parents to the long list of deaths he believed to be his fault. She'd chosen to go by herself, believing that all she needed to do was reconcile with her parents; let them have a nice screaming match followed by forgiveness. Then they would start moving back to England, and life would get back to normal. Maybe Ron would ask her out and she'd get a job, although it was a bit of a stretch to believe. Everything would work out. It was a perfect plan, and after the unpredictability of the war, she was looking forward to returning to her regimented life.

Tracking her parents hadn't taken nearly as long as she'd expected. In fact, she managed to find them surprisingly easy since she'd planted the idea of New South Wales in their minds. She tried to force the lingering thoughts of how easy it'd been to find her parents as she stood on their front porch. After the past year of hunting for unknown objects with only the barest of hints, this task had been far too simple. She lingered on their doorstep trying to remember her Gryffindor courage, but thoughts of her parents anger gave her pause. She did know that if she didn't knock she would only ever have unanswered questions. She'd saved the world, and now she was getting a small reward. Her mother answered the door with a wary smile, and it wasn't long until she invited Hermione inside for a cup of tea.

The teapot was in pieces, and tea dripped down the wall from where it had been thrown into the wall. He had ripped it magically from her mother's hands when he arrived, and as her mother screamed, silenced her. Even with Hermione's war honed reflexes he had disarmed her before she could launch a spell at him. It was the look on his face when he held Bellatrix's wand in his hands that frightened Hermione. He flew into a rage, and magically bound her mother before violently throwing Hermione backwards into the nearest wall. She expected to fall down, but he magically trapped her there. She expected him to interrogate her, but instead he started setting up complex warding spells on the house.

"Where did you get this wand?" He snarled at her after he was done. "You stole a pureblood's wand! Filthy mudblood! Were you no longer content with stealing magic?!" He angrily decimated the nearest bookcase while her mother stared wide eyed, still under the silencing spell.

"Answer me mudblood!" he yelled.

"I disarmed her," Hermione answered. "Wandlore says wands choose their owners, and can often switch allegiance when lost by their owners in a dual." He didn't need to know that Bellatrix's wand hadn't truly accepted her.

"You stole her wand," he snarled.

"She stole mine," Hermione said. "Besides, she's dead. What does it matter?"

"Muggles and Mudbloods have no rights to magic," the man answered. "You're not a real witch, and as such it doesn't matter what Madame Lestrange had every right." He was clearly deluded, and Hermione knew that there was nothing she could do to persuade him otherwise. He seemed to agree with her silent assessment, and she watched as he snapped the wand and tossed it in the direction of the shattered teapot.

Australia was a mistake. She'd made a mistake. After miraculously surviving a war, in which a megalomaniac was committed to genocide, she was now facing certain death. Where had she gone wrong? Did he always know where to find her parents or did he follow her here? The pain he was causing only solidified the guilt that she felt. He took the silence spell off her mother, and Hermione cringed at the sounds the woman was making. How had she been so careless? She was alone, wandless, and restrained. It wasn't long until she fell roughly onto the floor, and then dragged closer to her mother. He forced both of them to kneel on the ground facing one another. It wasn't long until they were both bruised and bleeding.

"She can save you," he said breathing into her mother's ear. Hermione watched as a look of revulsion appeared on her mother's face while she tried to squirm away from the man. Despite her efforts she was unable to move, and only succeeded in hurting herself. The binding spell he had used on them was a Death Eater favorite; it secured ropes around the skin, and would tighten as the victim struggled. The Order had often found victims who had bled out from cuts on their wrists as a result. She realized too late that he used the spell, and already the rope was painfully digging into her skin. Her mother continued to struggle making it worse for herself, and Hermione was unable to warn her. The Death Eater was savoring the fear her mother displayed. Hermione watched as he preened each time he was able to elicit a whimper or a shriek. It was sickening. It was like watching a horrific car accident; she couldn't tear her eyes away.

The anticipation of his actions were unnerving. He continuously alternated between the two women, and she had to watch him walk over to her after he'd made a new wound on her mum. He always used his wand. He forced her to make eye contact with him as he started burning off the bottom half of her shirt. Hermione desperately wanted to move away, but knew the ropes would prevent her from succeeding. The spell was uncomfortably hot, and she had to avoid moving away from it. Did he know the amount of torture he was causing?It was lucky that he wasn't applying it to her skin. She gagged on bile when he started running his dirty fingers over the scar splayed across her abdomen.

"Brightest Witch Her Age," he said. "That's what those blood traitors call you, isn't it? How is it that they're so willing to worship a thief?" Despite the position she was in, Hermione couldn't help her natural reaction to scoff at his assertion.

"Prove it," Hermione said. "There has never been any evidence of 'stolen magic.' It's an excuse purebloods made up to deal with the fact that muggleborns were beating their children academically. You couldn't deal with your lack of power." He slapped her across the face.

"Little mudblood, you have so much to learn," he said with a lecherous grin. "The Dark Lord has proven just how worthless you are, haven't you been paying attention?"

"So is that why he's dead?" She asked smirking at him. "If you're so obsessed with blood purity, why are you following a half blood around and drooling over everything he does?" Her eye was going to be black if she didn't stop mouthing off.

"You're lower than dirt, not worthy to lick my shoe. I always wondered how you survived our first meeting. That spell of mine has claimed strong purebloods, as well as half bloods. All above you. I admit, it was fascinating that you managed to cling to life. I realized too late that you must have stolen an elite's magic. Which pureblood child did you rob of their magic?" He asked as he caressed her abdomen.

"Get your hands off me," she said before spitting in his face. He punched her in return, and if he hadn't used magic to keep her in one spot she would've have collapsed from the force.

"Answer me," he snarled.

"I didn't steal anything," Hermione said. He seemed to realize that he wouldn't get any information from this line of questioning, or he got bored. Hermione flinched when he turned abruptly and stalked towards her mother.

"Tell her who you are," he said as he wrenched her mother's head back by her hair. Hermione watched as he used the same burning spell again, although he applied it to her mum's skin.. Hermione grimaced at the shriek of pain that tore from her mother's throat.

"You already said it," Hermione said. "I'm the Brightest Witch My Age."

"Tell her mudblood," he hissed as he snapped one of her mother's fingers in half. "Do you think

I'm playing with you?" She watched as he reached for another one of her fingers.

"I'm your daughter," she whispered as she locked eyes with her mum. There was no recognition in her mother's eyes.

"I don't," her mother said. "I've never had children. You're not mine. She's not mine! Please, let me go. You made a mistake. She's not my daughter!" Hermione didn't even flinch at the bright flash of green light. She stared at her mother's lifeless body as he walked towards her.

"Let's go have some fun," he said as he grabbed her by the roots of her hair and dragged her into the next room. Her eyes never left her mother's body.

* * *

 _London, England_

His father was in Azkaban. Lucius's trial had been one of the first following the defeat of Lord Voldemort, and despite how much time Draco had to adjust it was still surprising how much his life had changed. Lucius never escaped the Final Battle of Hogwarts with his freedom. The Aurors had arrested him before he could disappear, along with dozens of Death Eaters. Draco's mother was placed under house arrest until Potter testified on her behalf on how she'd taken actions to end the Dark Lord's reign. Draco was thankful that the new Wizengamot realized that Narcissa had been coerced and forced to deal with the Death Eaters as a pureblood wife, although he had no doubt that the few purebloods remaining in the Wizengamot had always known this to be true.

Lucius had shown a shocking amount of foresight prior to his conviction. While awaiting his trial, he arranged for Draco to become the patriarch of the Malfoy family. He now was the CEO of Malfoy Enterprises and controlled the majority of its shares, in addition to having the responsibility to care for his mother. Lucius handed the signet ring he wore identifying him as patriarch before the trial began. It was imperative that when he was convicted, he was not holding the title of patriarch. The decision saved the family's assets from getting confiscated as punishment for Lucius' actions, as well as protected Narcissa and Draco from any wayward relatives who might attempt a coup. It was a relief to Draco that his father had been convicted and sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban. He'd ruined the family's reputation, decimated Malfoy Enterprises, and terrorized Narcissa and Draco in their own home.

Draco had expected to face charges as well, and was shocked when Auror Kingsley informed him that he wouldn't even be arrested, since he was a minor. Kingsley explained that it was rather obvious (to those who understood logic) that it's extremely difficult to go against your parents while still under their authority, particularly when said parents use violence as a means of coercion. While not all of his schoolmates would be absolved, Draco had not killed anyone, and had refused to identify Potter when he was in the manor. Instead, Lucius was charged with child endangerment, in addition to a host of others. After the success of convicting him, the prosecutors decided to continue addressing the Death Eaters who forced their children into the service of the Dark Lord.

Since their original conversation, Kingsley had been appointed as the Interim Minister of Magic, and Draco had given the Auror Department full access to the evidence that was in the Manor. He'd been surprised at the lack of thought the Death Eaters had given to concealing their activities, although no doubt it was the result of the Dark Lord's assurance that they'd win. Regardless, Draco was able to hand over memories, dark artifacts, and other evidence to use against the Death Eaters who were in Auror custody. The department helped him in return by starting to purge the manor of the residual dark magic. It was currently uninhabitable as a result of the activities of Death Eaters, and the Dark Lord himself. Draco removed the house elves, and then sent Narcissa to one of their smaller estates in the French countryside.

Managing Malfoy Enterprises consumed the majority of his time considering how badly his father had allowed the business to deteriorate. His first priority was severing shady business contracts, which his father established in service to Voldemort. He started with Borgin and Burkes, and after being verbally assaulted for abandoning pureblood values, he continued until he'd scrupulously examined every contract they had. Needless to say, he'd pissed off a lot of his father's old business partners, and had no doubt Lucius would find out soon enough. All of the conversations were near identical, and by the last one Draco could recite every argument which would be used before they were given. It was exhausting to say the least. After he'd finished, Draco started researching promising muggle companies to invest in.

The public remained unaware of the changes he was making, and the help he was giving to the Auror Department. The majority of the public hated his family and viewed them as the face of the Death Eaters. He couldn't blame anyone for hating his father. The man committed heinous acts without remorse, and Draco often couldn't handle knowing it was his father. Unfortunately for Draco, the majority of people assumed that he was just like his father, which meant they also hated him. Despite Lucius' conviction, and the ongoing trials of other Death Eaters, the public was out for blood. He'd endured verbal attacks demanding his imprisonment, death, and humiliation whenever he was in public. He elected not to publicize his donations to rebuilding the Wizarding World, because he knew that either the money would be refused or he'd be accused of trying to buy his reputation back.

The angry crowds he had to endure often became so overwhelming and common that Draco was forced to avoid pubic wizarding areas, such as Diagon Alley, as much as possible. His newfound isolation was unsettling at times, but he preferred it to the alternative. The families he'd grown up with refused to denounce the blood purist values which had resulted in the war. Not only did he not care to associate with them, but Draco knew that they wouldn't tolerate him. They viewed him and his mother as traitors to the cause, while the rest of the world thought him a Death Eater. Growing accustomed to his new lifestyle didn't take as long as he'd assumed. Although, he had to admit it was probably because he'd become a workaholic overnight. It was a relief to have a stable routine, and not have a meglomaniac terrorizing you in your childhood home. Draco had bought a new flat after learning that the manor was inhabitable, not that he'd been planning on staying there. He didn't want to reside in any of the properties he already owned in case someone attempted retribution. It was comforting to know that no one knew where he lived. Muggle London kept him away from the wide eyed stares and threats. He didn't run into anyone he knew from his past, which is why he wasn't expecting to suddenly trip over the body of a blood soaked girl in an alley on his way home that evening.

Her clothes were shredded and there was a faint scent of smoke in the air around her Her face was a myriad of different colors, in addition to being swollen, and her hair was uneven and caked with blood. He didn't recognize her, but she was so mangled that it was impossible. In fact, Draco was certain that she was dead.

"Please," the girl suddenly gasped. "Help." Surprised, Draco reacted without thought and gathered the girl into his arms. She whimpered in obvious pain as he secured her in his grip.

"Malfoy?" Her voice was weak, but he recognized it. Someone tried to murder Granger...again. He disapparated back to his apartment, and made his way the kitchen. Luckily, the table was clear and he set her down as gently as possible on it while bellowing for his house elf.

"Master summoned Ipsy?" Ipsy asked as he arrived out thin air.

"I need you to heal her," he said gesturing towards Granger. "I went to school with her. Her name's Granger, and she's muggleborn. I found her in an alley like this. What do you need me to do?" Ipsy didn't hesitate and started barking orders at him.

"Master must get hot water and towels," Ipsy said. "Lots and lots of towels. Master must also get blood restorative potions, Ipsy will get helper." His elf disapperated and Draco summoned dozens of towels and conjured a bucket. He magically filled it with hot water as Ipsy arrived with another house elf.

"Ipsy will need blood to be cleared while Ipsy diagnoses," the house elf said to Draco. The three of them worked in silence as quickly as possible. Ipsy realized that Granger was still bleeding, and managed to get it to stop before they could move on to her other injuries. All the while Draco had to continuously swap out blood soaked towels for new ones. Growing up, he'd discovered how adept House Elves were at healing magic, although it was different than what wizards normally used. While his father refused to acknowledge their ability, Draco made sure to study it, and provide his elves with the ability to help as much as possible.

"Master needs blood replenishing potions," Ipsy said as he started casting spells over Granger's immobile body. Draco summoned several bottles from his pantry and handed one directly to Ipsy. It took several hours of healing spells, stained towels, potions, and Ipsy cursing "the bad man" before the elf finally announced that the girl was stable, and once more resembled a human. Her face was still swollen, but Ipsy was adamant that she needed to rest before she started taking superficial healing potions. Draco chose to carry her to one of his nicer guest rooms, and made sure that she had a clean change of clothes.

"Ipsy, when will she wake up?" He asked as he tucked the sheet around her.

"When Miss decides to rise," Ipsy answered. "If Master is finished, Ipsy would like to wash grime off." Draco nodded while trying not to laugh at the look of disgust on Ipsy's face as the elf looked at the blood covering him. While Ipsy didn't care about blood status, he didn't like germs. After Draco left the room, he cast a spell to let him know when she woke.

"Granger, what have you been up to?" Draco muttered as he walked into his study. Once they had been able to see the injuries, both Ipsy and Draco had recognized a few of them. Dolohov was one of the more vile Death Eaters, and enjoyed creating spells to wreak havoc on people. He'd never been happy with one signature curse. During the war, Draco had allowed Ipsy to heal the prisoners that the Dark Lord stashed in the Malfoy Dungeons, with orders never to get caught. Many of Ipsy's patients were subjected to Dolohov's torturing sessions at the manor. He'd disappeared at the end of the war, and the Aurors didn't have any leads on him. Unlike older families, the Dolohov's owned less property, and the Ministry already knew about most of them because of Antoine's father had gotten caught breeding and illegally selling dragon's blood.

Unfortunately, there wasn't really a way to track Dolohov's movements, since the trace would've broken decades ago when he came of age. Draco also couldn't summon him through the Dark Mark, like Voldemort, although the mere thought made him queasy. Sifting through papers piled on his desk, Draco started looking for any information that he'd given the Auror Department, or he'd received from them about tracking Death Eaters. He finally found what he was looking at the bottom. It was information about the different magical signatures that had been identified so far in the effort to purge the manor.

"Ipsy," Draco called out. His faithful elf appeared a moment later. "I need to run to the Ministry, can you stay in the flat, and keep an eye on Granger? I don't want her to wake up alone."

"Certainly Master," Ipsy said. "You are out of the fizzy drink you like." Draco nodded as he grabbed his cloak.

"Thanks, I'll be back as soon as possible." He threw floo powder into the fireplace, "Minister of Magic's office." Instead of arriving in the atrium of the Ministry, Draco stepped out into a small waiting room adjacent to Kingsley's office. It was more efficient than dealing with the crowds downstairs.

"Magdala," Draco said greeting Kingsley's executive assistant. "Is Kingsley around?"

"How important is it?" she asked not looking up from her desk.

"It's an emergency," he said. She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "I may have found a way to trace the fugitive Death Eaters." Magdala gave a quick nod and darted into Kingsley's office. She summoned him inside a moment later.

"Draco," Kingsley said. "Magdala said you had a lead?"

"These are the magical signatures that were found in abundance in the Manor," Draco said getting straight to the point. "Now, at first glance it's impossible to really differentiate between all of them. However, these," he said flipping over the page, "categorize each signature by the location of the manor that they resonated the most."

"Is there a way to figure out who used magic in certain rooms?" Kingsley asked.

"Process of elimination," Draco suggested. "These are the dungeons, and the highest signature is this one. I know for a fact that Antonin Dolohov spent the most time out of all the Death Eaters torturing prisoners."

"We haven't been able to find him," Kingsley said. "This is a good lead. What's the chance he left the country?" Draco shrugged.

"Decently high," he answered. "Most of his friends are either awaiting trial, dead or locked up. That doesn't leave him a lot of places to go."

"I'll have the Auror Department check on any magical outbursts with this signature. Is there any way you can try and identify any others?" Kingsley asked.

"Of course," Draco said. "This is a copy of the original report. You can keep it, and I'll work off the one I have at my office. Can you let me know if there they get any hits?"

"Of course," Kingsley said. "Draco, this is a great lead." He was surprised to see the genuine smile on the former Auror's face as he stretched his arm out. Draco gave him a nod and accepted his handshake. He didn't linger, knowing that it was more than likely that one of those prejudice asses would show up and curse him. Arriving back at his flat, he checked in on Granger, who was still unconscious, before he headed back to his study.

"Master forgot fizzy drinks," Ipsy said when he opened the door. Draco brushed the reminder aside, knowing he didn't want to go to the grocery store this evening.

"Ipsy, why are you sitting in my chair?" Draco asked taking his cloak off and tossing it onto the armchair nearest to the fireplace.

"Ipsy was curious about why Master sits here so often for so long," the elf answered. "Chair is quite comfortable. Master's friend is stable, and hasn't woken up yet."

"Good," Draco said as Ipsy hopped out of the chair behind his desk. Draco stared at his now barren desk in disdain. "Did you clean my desk off?"

"Yes," Ipsy said. "Master cannot work with clutter. Ipsy organized papers for Master. Master will not lecture Ipsy." Draco rolled his eyes at the bossiness of his elf. "If Master needs parchment he will ask Ipsy for it."

"Ipsy, can you write up a note asking Potter to come here?" Draco asked. Ipsy looked at him with wide eyes.

"Master dislikes Boy Wonder," Ipsy said in a tone which left Draco with no doubt that Ipsy didn't like Potter.

"It's a mutual feeling," Draco muttered. "I need to talk with him, and I'd like you to deliver the note."

"Ipsy has to meet Dobby's infatuation?" the elf asked with a slightly disgusted tone. Ah, and there's the reason Ipsy was irritated by the request. Dobby and Ipsy had never gotten along. In fact, Dobby had gotten Ipsy in trouble on multiple occasions by insisting he needed punishment for disobeying orders. Ipsy enjoyed breaking rules, and getting away with it, however, Dobby followed the letter of the law and always insisted on punishments.

"I wouldn't bring Dobby up,," Draco suggested. "If you could do so as soon as possible, I would be grateful." Ipsy nodded and disappeared. Draco had a lot of questions about why Granger was in his apartment near dead, and he was particularly interested in why no one seemed concerned that she wasn't missing. The Daily Prophet had been covering the end of the war-particularly the Golden Trio-nonstop, and nowhere in print had it been mentioned that Granger went missing.

"Ilyia," Draco called. A small house elf who wore spectacles (without lenses) appeared out of thin air.

"Master called?" She asked.

"Yes, I have a small research project for you if you're interested," Draco said watching as Illyia instantly nodded enthusiastically with wide eyes. "Excellent. I need you to go back through all of the Daily Prophet publications for the past month and look for any coverage of the Golden Trio, specifically Granger."

"Illyia cannot use the Manor Library," Illyia said. Draco sighed and reminded himself to be patient.

"Illyia, it is not safe for you to use the library at the manor right now. You are not being punished for anything, it is to protect you from the residual dark magic," Draco reminded her. "The personal study I set up for you is sufficient, and you still have access to the majority of the books."

"Master learned logic," Illyia grumbled.

"Ilyia, do you want to do the research project or not?" Draco asked.

"Yes master," Illyia said. "Ilyia was just following Master's rules about being honest with Master. Master should sleep soon." She smiled at him before disapperating out of his study. Illyia was by far the most vocal of his family elves, and clearly was Granger in elven form. She was the librarian of the manor, and he had to order her to stay out of the manor while it was being purged. He knew that she'd find him an answer on whether Granger had been missing from the press recently, and that Illyia would do a better job of it than he ever could.

If, what he suspected was true, it would lead to other questions. Foremost, why was no one looking for her, and why hadn't Boy Wonder used his savior status to raise hell? Everyone knew how valuable she was, and yet based on actions he'd witnessed the Wonder Duo seemed to treat her like a dirty shoe. While Draco hadn't understood what it was like to lack materials growing up, he'd learned firsthand how valuable family was during the war. What confused him was the fact that he'd heard Potter and Weasley constantly refer to Granger as family, and yet she was in his apartment in atrocious shape. It was baffling, but again, he didn't have confirmation on his hypothesis. Focusing on the situation with Granger was yet another avoidance from sitting alone with his thoughts and memories.

He knew that if he didn't listen to Illyia's suggestion of retiring to his room, she'd continue to badger him about it. Sleep didn't come easy, and he'd long ago learned the dangers of using Dreamless Sleep Potion too much. He reluctantly set down the parchment he was working on, and headed towards his room, hoping that it was easier to fall asleep this time.


	2. A New Social Order

**PARAMONOS** (m) Ancient Greek  
Derived from Greek _παραμονη (paramone)_ meaning "endurance, constancy".

Chapter II

It was September 1st, and Draco couldn't help finding it odd that he wasn't boarding a train for school. Maybe it was the lack of a normal seventh year, or a graduation ceremony that exacerbated the surreal feeling. His mother always made a big deal about today, and made sure he understood why education was so important, while Lucius made scornful comments about mudbloods and blood traitors. Narcissa was devastated that the Dark Lord refused to let Draco leave for his seventh year, and it was the one day when Lucius had the decency to keep his mouth shut.

Nostalgia was a powerful emotion. It's why he'd finally given into his elves' demands that he cease working, and sleep. The lack of communication from Kingsley, and Granger refusing to wake up had stressed him out. His solution was to bury himself in research, fixing Malfoy Enterprises, and irritating Ipsy. They were the only three things in his life he could control, and he figured at the very least he should control them to the best of his ability. So that's what he was currently working on.

"Master is irritating," Ipsy said while glaring at Draco. "Five times. Master has asked Ipsy five different times about the girl. Five times is too many!"

"Has anything changed?" Draco asked ignoring the ramblings of his elf. Ipsy's usual temperament was usually between overbearing and crotchety.

"Master's feelings," Ipsy muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Draco asked despite hearing what Ipsy had said perfectly well.

"Girl is stable. No change," Ipsy said clenching his teeth.

"Have you actually looked in on her since then?" Draco asked just to irritate him. Ipsy glared at him, and Draco knew he was getting under his skin.

"Could you?" Draco asked. He laughed when the door slammed shut behind Ipsy. He couldn't help, but feel satisfied since Ipsy hadn't stopped pestering him about working less. That elf was a force a force to be reckoned with, and constantly tried to order Draco around.

"No change," Ipsy said.

"Did you actually check? Looking in at the door doesn't count. Did you do the diagnostic spells?" Draco asked as Ipsy fumed.

"Ipsy is healer, Master is not. Master is irritating his benevolent healer," Ipsy told him.

"I thought you were supposed to be the humble Malfoy healer," Draco said.

"Master is extremely irritating today," Ipsy repeated. "Ipsy is taking a break, and does not want to see Master anymore." His elf disapperated, and Draco knew he'd disappear for awhile. It was good pleased to know Granger wasn't facing complications from any of her injuries, and her broken leg was mending nicely. Knowing she wasn't putting any unnecessary stress on her body slightly assuaged his fear of her dying in his flat. The headlines would be atrocious.

He didn't need this stress. Granger, tracking Death Eaters, and fixing Malfoy Enterprises created enough of it to wreak havoc on his life. The family business was such a mess that it'd take him at least a year to clear up. Draco was furious at the extraordinary damage Lucius had caused. Apparently ruining the family's reputation wasn't enough for the man. He tried to ignore how much anger existed at his father and his actions. Lucius' hypocrisy was the worst. Instead Draco chose to appreciate having such a large distraction so he didn't think about anything else.

His elves insisted he was overworking himself. They weren't wrong. He just wasn't about to admit it. If his elves had their way he'd be forced to take a break, which meant he'd have time to dwell on everything else, and the mere idea turned his stomach. It wasn't until he accidentally broke a vase with a magical outburst that he finally gave in to their pestering. He agreed to sleep in, and then work in the kitchen during breakfast. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to sleep that night, and hounding Ipsy seemed like a good idea.

"Master is still irritating," Ipsy said. Draco looked up from the kitchen table he was sitting at, surprised Ipsy had reemerged so soon.

"Minister Kingsley arrived, and has requested to speak with Ipsy's rather irritating Master."

"Bring him in," Draco said trying not to laugh at Ipsy's insults. It was never a good idea to encourage Ipsy. Ipsy ushered Kingsley into the kitchen quickly, and forced him into a chair. Kingsley watched with an amused expression while Ipsy put a cup of tea in front of him. It took a moment before Kingsley realized he was waiting for him to taste the drink.

"You make a lovely cup of tea Ipsy," Kingsley said. The elf nodded satisfied with the compliment and left the room. "Your elf certainly has personality."

"Ipsy is strong willed, and convinced that he's always right. Furthermore, he insists on guests drinking tea," Draco said. "He's a bit overbearing sometimes. Frankly, I'm surprised he survived Lucius."

"I can't imagine your father tolerating him," Kingsley said.

"Ipsy,strives to find the loophole in every request given to him, and remain obedient. He was the one who taught me to exploit the rules without getting caught, or explicitly breaking them. Professor Snape was horrified when he figured out the majority of my Slytherin traits were learned from a house elf."

"It's good to know someone's keeping an eye on you," Kingsley said as he took another sip of tea. "I was afraid you'd work yourself to death."

"Merlin you sound like my house elf," Draco said groaning. "Work won't kill me. Besides, it's better than doing nothing. Aren't you being a little hypocritical? You're here awfully early."

"I can't visit my favorite philanthropist?" Kingsley asked him. Draco wasn't able to prevent the strangled noise from escaping his throat, which earned a laugh from the Minister.

"I'd rather you refer to me as an informant," Draco said. "It sounds much more dastardly."

"Fortunately for me, you've invested too much in fixing the damage from the war," Kingsley said. "Not to mention the bonus of irritating you."

"I'm not above throwing you out," Draco said as Kingsley laughed.

"You may be interested to know that you've helped expedite the reconstruction of multiple projects. I'm still shocked that Hogwarts was able to start their new term only a month late," Kingsley said.

"Hogwarts was never in danger. Everyone's too bloody nostalgic," Draco said.

"The repairs still cost money. The contributions you made took care of Hogwarts, and helped finance the hospital repairs too. In fact St. Mungo's practically completed. Quite frankly, you've done well."

"It's the least I could do," Draco said shrugging. Kingsley's gratitude was off putting, and the sincerity behind his words made it worse.

"That said, I'm sure you know I didn't show up just to compliment you," Kingsley said, and Draco couldn't help sitting up straighter when the man's tone changed.

"What happened?" Draco asked as he summoned two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. It was evident from Kingsley's tone that the liquid was necessary.

"The Auror Department successfully traced the signature you brought me. You were right about him leaving the country."

"Where'd you find him?" Draco asked as he poured each glass, and slid one to Kingsley.

"Austrailia, of all places," Kingsley said. "Unfortunately, we don't know if he met any of the other Death Eaters who've been hiding.

"Were you able to confirm that it was Dolohov?" Draco asked sipping on the whiskey. Despite his belief that signature was Antonin Dolohov, there was always a slight possibility Draco was wrong.

"There's absolutely no doubt that it's him," Kingsley said disgust laced in his voice.

"Is he in custody?"

"No," Kingsley said before taking a strong drink of whiskey. "He's dead."

"How bad was it?" Draco asked as he considered the news. It wasn't the worst outcome. He had no doubt the man's trial would have been heavily publicized. The public was out for blood, and Kingsley would've benefited politically from bringing yet another Death Eater to justice. However, Dolohov was unhinged, and had escaped Azkaban before. It wouldn't surprise him if the man did it a second time, and even if they managed to recapture him the potential danger he could cause wasn't worth the risk.

"He leveled a two story house in a muggle neighborhood, and that was before we arrived. The Australian Ministry has been having a hell of a time trying to cover it up. They haven't had to deal with hate crimes against muggles like we have. For once we didn't have fights over jurisdiction. Never thought I'd see the day, or the price of avoiding that argument."

"He leveled a house?" Draco repeated. It wasn't a reaction he'd associate with Dolohov. Honestly, if he had to attribute it to any Death Eater, he'd say his Aunt Bellatrix was responsible. She prefered creating large scale terror and expanding the amount of chaos she could wreak. In fact, she was often in charge of the larger scale attacks against Muggle Britain. Dolohov, on the other hand, abhorred Bella's tactics. Draco had witnessed them cross wands on multiple occasions about the matter. While his aunt was chaotic, Dolohov was controlled. He hunted. Even when he was at his most unhinged, Dolohov planned everything in advance.

"You're sure?" Draco asked.

"The residue was saturated into the foundation of the house, or rather what was left of it. I've never seen a magical signature so heavy and dense before," Kingsley said, and Draco started shaking his head. "What's wrong?"

"It's not his style," Draco said looking at his glass. "You have to understand that I was forced to attend certain meetings, and I've seen that man at work. I've heard him describe in detail his preferences for torture, and suggest which strategies would work best for killing muggles. I've seen him do it. It's ghastly, and violent. Frankly he makes the Dark Lord look sane at times."

"I'm sensing a 'but," Kingsley said and Draco nodded.

"When he hunts-"

"Hunts?" Kingsley interrupted.

"It's the only word for it," Draco said hollowly. "It's why he and Greyback worked so well together. Hell, Greyback often offered to make him a wolf, and Dolohov seriously considered it." Draco had to pause and drink the last of the whiskey in his glass. He refilled it before continuing to speak.

"Dolohov stalks his victims before he attacks them. Depending on the victim, he can spend weeks and even months learning everything about them, their routine, weaknesses, strengths before snatching them. He changes his strategy depending on what he learns, but it's always up close and controlled." Draco took another large drink before looking at Kingsley.

"Dolohov gets off on feeling them die," Draco said. "He brags about it, and even will pull his memories out so he can rewatch it in a pensive. He's taken Greyback in with him to watch so he can give him tips." He forced himself to pause again.

"He'd never use an explosion. It's too uncontrolled and large for him. Dolohov doesn't like the attention; he savors the kill by himself. He and Bella used to have screaming matches when she tried to expand the attack zones. Lucius always raged about it in front of my mother and I. He thought it was too similar to muggle fist fights." Kingsley was staring at him with a curious expression.

"What?" Draco asked.

"It's tragic what you had to endure," Kingsley said. Draco shrugged noncommittally. "I mean it. What Lucius forced you to deal with is unforgivable." While Draco was used statements condemning his father, the anger and conviction in Kingsley voice surprised him.

"Thank you," Draco said unsure what to do with Kingsley's statement.

"Now, have you considered joining the Auror Department?" He asked doing an about face on the conversation. Draco jerked backwards in shock. "You've a real knack for picking up miniscule details, and understanding the logic behind decisions criminals make."

"As grand as chasing dark wizards sounds, I doubt the department is looking to provide their recruits with incentives to attack each other," Draco said. "Besides, I can't imagine the public supporting a decision to let me work as an Auror."

Kingsley tilted his head, although Draco wasn't sure if it was in agreement.

"The Auror Department doesn't take the public's opinion into account on employees," Kingsley said. "The only requirement is meeting the proper qualifications."

"I never sat for my NEWTS," Draco said. "Nor did I even attend my seventh year."

"There are multiple cases just like yours," Kingsley pointed out. "You haven't answered my question."

"Kingsley, you know it's not an option. So how about instead you tell me what information you've been sitting on," Draco said. The Minister sighed and gave him a short nod.

"They found more than one signature at the site," Kingsley said.

"What?" Draco asked surprised.

"Dolohov's signature wasn't the only one we found," Kingsley repeated. " When on site Aurors ran diagnostic spells, they found a second strain of magical residue. Our guys ran the spell again, and confirmed the presence of both signatures. The two were twisted tightly around each other. There was so much tension that the Aurors had trouble casting procedural spells. In fact this other signature seemed to almost smother Dolohov's. I've never even heard of this possibility before," the Minister said.

"It is a new field of study," Draco pointed out. "There are bound to be surprises every now and then. Although, from your description it sounds like a duel took place, which would certainly explain the destroyed house. More importantly, why did a magical fight occur in a muggle neighborhood?"

"The easiest assumption is that Dolohov and another Death Eater started fighting." Kingsley said. "Although, based on your comments earlier, it seems more likely he'd work alone.""

"It might not be a Death Eater," Draco said. "Dolohov has a long list of enemies. He's responsible for a lot of murders during the war, and revenge is a strong motivator. This could be a confrontation between a survivor, or a relative of one of his victims."

"I hope not," Kingsley said. "I don't think we have a compiled list of Dolohov's crimes. It's not like he carved his name into the victim's."

"Thanks for that picture," Draco said. "His pensieve would help, but I don't think he stored all of them in it; just his favorite ones. Before going down that path, you should look at the possibility of someone from the nearest magical community intervening."

"We did consider that," Kingsley said. "However, there isn't a magical community within a hundred miles, nor do they have any magical families living in the area."

"Did the Australian Ministry confirm that information?" Draco asked surprised that the Aurors had the foresight to ask the question.

"Yes," Kingsley answered. "They're quite baffled by the choice of location." Of course they were. It wasn't easy to get that far into the muggle world undetected and without using magic. Draco was particularly curious about how Dolohov even found the house.

Why on earth would Dolohov go that far into the muggle world to attack two muggles? Draco was positive that Dolohov purposefully targeted the couple. It was too much trouble for the man to endure for a random killing.

"How's the Australian Ministry handling it?" He asked the Minister.

"Gas leak," Kingsley answered grimacing. "Muggles have a few options to heat their houses. Gas is one of them. Unfortunately, gas explodes upon occasion. At least, that's what the experts tell me."

"Were the Aurors able to identify the two muggles?" Draco asked.

"Eventually, yes," Kingsley said.

"Do I want to know what that means?" Draco asked.

"We had to piece the bodies together," Kingsley answered. "Dolohov was a mess too. They're still trying to figure out what he did to them. They were definitely mutilated while alive, but the explosion left very little to examine. We do know that it was a married couple, and they owned the house; Wendell and Monica Wilkins. Their neighbors said they were new to the area."

"Where did they move from?" Draco asked. The names sounded made up to him. Wendell Wilkins? Who did that to their kid?

"We don't know for sure," Kingsley said. "Aurors found a black box in the remains of the house, which had their passports, and the deed to the property. However, there's no birth record for either of them. We did learn that they entered the country two years ago, and that's when the records start for both of them. Prior to that date, there's no evidence that they were ever in Australia. According to a customs report, they'd been on vacation in Britain."

"Did the Aurors find any records from their time here?" Draco asked.

"Only of them getting on a plane to leave," Kingsley said. "We also know that their passports are fake. Whomever made them is excellent at forgery. According to our expert, it's impossible that they were muggle-made."

"So you found the bodies of a Death Eater and two muggles, whom have no past? It all sounds a bit dodgey to be honest."

"It's weird, I'll give you that," The Minister said. "Oh, and we have no lead on the mysterious wizard." That didn't surprise Draco in the slightest. Although he was beginning to suspect it had to do with the girl in his guest room.

"Illyia has Master's research," a feminine voice said quietly from the kitchen doorway. Looking over Draco saw Illyia peering around a thick file in her hands, and staring nervously at the two men.

"You can bring it over," Draco said. Illyia hesitantly walked around the kitchen table, while keeping as much space as possible between her and Kingsley. Her eyes never left him even when she'd reached Draco's side. She allowed him take the file from her, and open it. However, Draco could tell she was fighting with herself not to snatch it back. Inside was a note pinned to the top of several newspapers.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley in at least an article per paper for last month. Some papers have multiple articles. Granger girl missing. Last article was about a month ago, when it speculated about the lack of public appearances. Prior to that she's covered as much as the boys.

"Excellent job," Draco said to Illyia who preened. "I'm going to sort through this, and I'll call you when you can have it back." The elf looked at him, and then pointedly at Kingsley.

"He isn't going to steal it," Draco said exasperated. Illyia clearly disagreed, but gave a curt nod before leaving.

"Sorry. Illyia thinks she owns all of the family books, and any sort of research I ask her to complete. It's more valuable than gold to her." Kingsley laughed and shook his head.

"Is it a requirement for your elves to be eccentric?" Kingsley asked. Draco simply shrugged as he continued reading from the file. "Any ideas about which leads to follow?"

"Draco?"

"Hmm?" Draco asked finally looking up from the file.

"Do you have any suggestions on leads?" Kingsley asked. "Every lead we've found disappears, or in Dolohov's case ends up dead. You have this uncanny ability to discover a new motive or theory that no one previously considered." As Kingsley spoke, Draco was hyper aware of the file in his hand. Should he share his theory about Granger with the Minister?

What would you have done before the war?

"Have you been reading the Daily Prophet?" Draco asked abruptly. It was obvious that Kingsley hadn't been anticipating the question, and Draco watched his eyebrows furrow. "Ever since the Final Battle, they've been obsessed with Potter and his friends. Honestly, I considered dropping my subscription or just sending Potter a check."

"If I didn't know better, I'd ask if you're jealous of all the attention Harry's getting. The kid did kill Voldemort. People are going to want to stalk him for a bit." Kingsley said. Draco's favorite thing about Kingsley was his willingness to follow a topic change and hear someone out.

"Actually, I'm not," Draco said. "It's odd. Before the war, back when we were in school it drove me mad how much Potter got away with simply because of a scar. I hated the favoritism and the attention he received."

"How about now?" Kingsley asked.

"I'm grateful to be ignored," Draco said. "It's feels weird arriving at the conclusion that so much has changed. I've changed. My father would always insist on family outings so the press could get pictures, and write stories about us. I thought we were special. Now, it just disgusts me how much he lied and faked our family life. I'm happy that the media ignores me."

"Lucius was talented at spinning a story," Kingsley said. "Unfortunately he wasn't above using you to do it. It might make you feel better to know that Harry hates the attention. He's always complained about it. I am curious about your sudden interest in discussing wizarding media."

"I have a theory," Draco answered.

"Of course you do," Kingsley said with a sigh. "Go ahead."

"Do you know how often have they been covering him and Weasley?" Draco asked.

"Every day since the Battle of Hogwarts?" Kingsley asked. "Honestly, I don't pay that much attention to it. Although, I can tell you the articles often are over the top."

"When was the last time you saw Granger mentioned?" Draco asked. Kingsley looked at him with an odd expression.

"I presume that she was included in the latest article with the boys," he said. "They all start to meld together after awhile. I've started skimming them to be honest. Although if I'm misinformed, I'm positive that you'll correct me." In response, Draco slid the file across the island they were sitting at to Kingsley who promptly opened it.

"It's been well over a month since the last time she's been featured," he said. "There's been no pictures, not even mentioning of her other than to wonder about her aversion to the spotlight, and the usual crap they make up. When was the last time you've seen her?"

"Honestly, I can't remember. I know they've all been at the Burrow. Molly was insistent that they stay close in the aftermath," Kingsley said as he started flipping through different articles. "Hell, I've been so busy that I haven't been able to stop by recently."

"I'd like to think Boy Wonder would make a fuss if she went missing," Draco said.

"Of course he would," Kingsley said. "The entire Weasley family would be up in arms if something happened to Hermione. Draco, what aren't you telling me?"

"Granger killed Dolohov," Draco said. He kept his voice calm and maintained eye contact with the Minister. He was taking it better than Draco had anticipated, although he was blinking rapidly.

"I beg your pardon?" Kingsley asked.

"Granger's the one who blew the house up," Draco repeated.

"You think the secondary signature belongs to Hermione Granger?" Kingsley asked. Draco nodded while Kingsley looked at the newspaper articles again. "Why would Hermione be responsible? Why would she be in Australia, much less alone?"

"I'm guessing she was alone, because she didn't want help from Potter or Weasel," Draco said. "I don't know why she'd refuse their help. You'd have more insight on that."

"This is one of your wilder theories," Kingsley said. "How in Merlin's name did you get stuck on this idea?" He proceeded to finish the rest of his whiskey, and motion for Draco to refill his glass.

"Dolohov rambled a lot," Draco answered. "I think it was a side effect from the Dementors. He vocalized a portion of his thoughts without realizing it. It took me awhile to realize he didn't know he was doing it. Rather creepy to be honest."

"Alright," Kingsley said.

"He rambled about Granger the most," Draco told him. "I know she was involved in the Ministry incident that landed my father in prison. Dolohov was sent there that night, and I've heard enough of his ramblings to know they fought."

"It was bad," Kingsley said. "He hit her with an unknown curse and she almost died."

"Let me guess, the spell is purple?" Draco asked. "It's one of his favorites, and he created it."

"So, if it is Hermione, we've established motive. Dolohov follows her to Australia and attacks her. Doesn't explain the location, or the muggles. Why would he wait until she was out of the country?"

"Media," Draco answered. "She's never alone here. Either Granger's with the Weasley's or the Prophet is following her around."

"So he follows her to Australia," Kingsley said. "Which explains how he found the house, and the most logical assumption is that the couple we found were her parents."

"That's my guess," Draco said. "Someone in the order probably warned her about leaving her parents unprotected."

"It would also explain the passports being of such high quality," Kingsley said. "I sincerely hope you're wrong. She'd be a wreck if she survived what we found. The boys would lose it. It'll be easy enough to confirm though, but if it is her it's going to be a hell of a time finding her if she's still there."

"I'm sincerely hope your theory's wrong," Kingsley said. "She'd be a wreck if she witnessed that, and I doubt the boys would've kept quiet if she showed up after a fight with Dolohov. It'll be easy enough to confirm though."

A loud crash followed by a painful female yell startled both men. Draco was on his feet and heading in the direction of the guest room before Kingsley could ask what the noise could possible be.

"Ipsy!" Draco bellowed. Opening the bedroom door he saw that Ipsy was already hovering over Granger, who was on the floor face down a few steps from the bed. It was clear that she was in pain.

"Good you're here. What happened?" Draco asked as he approached Ipsy and Granger.

"Miss has damaged leg," Ipsy was muttering. "Miss tried to walk too soon."

"Malfoy?" Granger asked confused. "What's going on? Where am I?"

"Miss woke up, and damaged leg," Ipsy said in a stern tone. He shot Draco a glare as though he was at fault for Hermione's failure to stay in bed.

"Granger, I'm going to pick you up alright?" Draco asked. "I'm not trying anything, and I'm not going to hurt you. It's just my house elf will continue to freak out if you remain on the floor."

"Alright," she said. He didn't miss the weakness in her voice, or the flinch that rippled through her when he reached for her. The second he had her back on the bed Ipsy shoved him out of the way and started running diagnostic spells.

"Dolohov," Granger said wincing at the prodding from Ipsy.

"He's dead," Draco said. "You're in muggle London, and I found you. Ipsy's amazing at healing spells, and has been keeping an eye on you." Hermione nodded at the information and closed her eyes.

"Why is Kingsley here?" Granger asked. Draco groaned as he turned around to see the Minister standing behind him.

"Well Draco, aren't you just full of surprises," the Minister said. "Were you going to tell me that you already knew it was Hermione, and not a theory considering you had her in your guest room?"

"I was getting to it," Draco said sheepishly. "She just managed to wake up with the perfect timing."

"Hermione, how are you feeling?" Kingsley asked.

"I've been better," she said as Ipsy fussed over her. "My knee fucking hurts. Why are you here?"

"I've been trying to track down wayward Death Eaters. Draco helps out from time to time. He'd gotten a hunch with Dolohov. Can I ask why you didn't take anyone with you to Australia?"

"It was my mess," she answered. Draco frowned, but didn't say anything. It was a feeling he was familiar with; he'd said the same thing to Snape in his sixth year.

"Miss has dark magic growing in her knee," Ipsy said practically growling at Hermione's left leg. "Black magic creates decay and pain."

"What does that mean?" Kingsley asked.

"Miss cannot use leg," Ipsy said. "Walking grows black magic. Black magic destroys leg."

"Can you fix it?" Hermione asked. Ipsy nodded and then blinked out of sight. Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Ipsy isn't the best at vocalizing his actions, but he went to get medical supplies.," Draco said. "I apologize for the lack of manners." Granger was staring at him as though she'd never seen him before, and Kingsley was just looking amused.

"Hermione, do you know how you got here?" Kingsley asked. She shook her head. "I'm sorry about your parents. If you'd like, I can arrange for you to go back to the Burrow."

"No," she said. "Please don't tell anyone about what happened."

"Granger," Draco said cutting Kingsley off who had opened his mouth to protest. "This is an international Auror investigation. Even if we don't tell the Wonder Duo, Kingsley has to add it to the investigation files to close it." He hadn't been expecting to have her nod.

"I understand that," she said. "However, I want you to bury this. There isn't a reason that the Prophet needs to get a hold of it. I don't want the boys to know, or anyone else in the Order."

"Granger it'll be a public record," Draco said. "The ministry implemented new laws focusing on transparency in an effort to prevent corruption. The most we can do is keep it quiet until someone starts asking questions. People will find out eventually:

"Fine, at least I'll have time then," Hermione said. Draco looked over his shoulder at Kingsley who shrugged in acquiesce. Ipsy pushed the door open, surprising Kingsley and Draco. He was awkwardly pushing a wheelchair.

Where in Merlin's name did he get that?

"Ipsy," Draco said in a warning tone. "Do I even want to know?"

"Master does not," Ipsy answered. "Master should just trust Ipsy not to get caught like Dobby. Ipsy will return it."

"Well Kingsley, if any of your Aurors get reports of a wheelchair theft, you'll know it was my house elf," Draco said.

"I doubt they'll believe that excuse," Kingsley said. "Besides I'm guessing it's for Hermione."

"Miss will not be able to walk or use her left leg until black magic is gone," Ipsy said. "Minister is smart. Miss will use this chair if she wishes to leave bed." The elf turned to stare over his shoulder at Kingsley before speaking again.

"Miss is not to leave until she is healed. Black magic regrows, and only Ipsy is qualified to heal. Evil man refined this spell, and Ipsy refined healing spell. Ipsy will not tolerate meddling witches or wizards interfering with Ipsy's patient."

"Draco, are you sure he's qualified?" Kingsley asked. "I'm not trying to insult you Ipsy, I just have to be sure."

"House elves have their own unique healing traditions. They pass them down through their families," Draco answered. "Ipsy is the best I've ever seen. I let him sneak down to the dungeons during the war and practice healing. Most of his patients were victims of Dolohov's spells."

"Very well," Kingsley said. "Hermione are you sure you don't want the boys to know?"

"There isn't a reason to tell them," She said. "Besides they'll just freak out, and it seems like I'm going to be here awhile working with Ipsy."

"Alright, but you'll have to speak to an Auror eventually," Kingsley said. "We'll need a formal statement. I don't think we should do it now though. Draco, walk me out will you?" Draco nodded.

"Ipsy, do you want to get started with draining Granger's knee?" he asked. "I'll be back in a moment." He followed Kingsley out, and was dreading what he was about to hear. It was an odd feeling. Draco used to never care about the opinions of other people. Kingsley didn't speak until they were in the foyer, where the fireplace was located.

"Why didn't you take her directly to St. Mungo's?" Kingsley asked.

"I found her in muggle London, and she was a bloodied mess," Draco answered. "Hell at first, I thought she was dead. Ipsy has experience with healing dark magic, and the hospital's still a mess. I was afraid that they'd turn me away for being a Malfoy, and I didn't know who'd attacked her."

Kingsley was nodding, which surprised Draco. Quite frankly he'd been expecting to be carted off to Azkaban almost immediately

"You made the right choice," Kingsley said. "Ipsy seems to know what he's doing, and you're right about St. Mungo's. I'll check in with the boys. They're not going to be happy about the situation."

"I'm well aware," Draco said. "You can't keep this a secret. Once the investigation is wrapped up, the media will get the story."

"We'll hold off until then, and see how her condition improves. I'm glad you found her," Kingsley said. "Draco, you did the right thing. Let me know if you have any leads on the rest of those signatures."

"I'll check in with you two later," the Minister said before flooing out of the flat. Draco sighed heavily, and felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. Trudging back towards the guest room, Draco wasn't prepared for the agony on Granger's face. Ipsy had her leg propped up on the bed, and was siphoning a nasty black liquid out of her knee.

"Ipsy," she managed. "I need to stop."

"Black magic clings," Ipsy said. "It wants to stay."

"It hurts too much," Granger cried.

"Master should be useful. Master shouldn't lurk," Ipsy growled as he worked on Granger's knee, which is how he ended up letting Granger squeeze the life out of him, as black goop oozed into a bucket below Granger's leg. Draco watched as Ipsy kept siphoning out more of the liquid until it slowed and only a clear pus appeared. Ipsy started muttering incantations, and once Hermione's knee was reclosed he reached for a large bandage.

"Miss cannot move leg. Miss cannot use leg," Ipsy said as he slid the odd looking contraption under Hermione's leg and started fastening it. Hermione nodded, and didn't seem to think the new addition to her leg was as weird as Draco did.

"Where did you get a muggle brace?" She asked. Ipsy looked at her and smiled before answering.

"Master retrieved it from muggle store," the elf answered. "Ipsy mentioned that Miss would need it." Hermione nodded and smiled at the elf. "Miss must use chair if out of bed. Black ooze will come back and more treatment needed."

"Thank you Ipsy," Hermione said.

"Granger, are you hungry?" Draco asked after disentangling himself from her.

"Yes," Hermione answered. "Is there a kitchen?"

"Master will get Miss into chair," Ipsy said. "Ipsy will cook." The elf was out of the room before anyone could protest. Draco rolled his eyes, and retrieved a spare blanket so Hermione could be comfortable.

"Thanks," she said once he'd gotten her settled. "Ipsy's interesting."

"The word you're looking for is overbearing," Draco answered. "Let's go supervise him before he goes too crazy. I imagine you have a lot of questions." He was surprised to see her grin at him.


	3. Rita Skeeter

Chapter 3

"Granger," Draco said finally tearing his eyes away from the parchment he'd been reading. "You're thinking too loudly again."

"I am not," Hermione said from the window seat she'd permanently commandeered in his office. She was glaring at the book in her hands with such a ferocity that Draco expected it to catch on fire. He couldn't help, but smirk when he heard her snap the book shut.

"You do realize that what you're suggesting is impossible, right?" She asked clearly irritated. "Thoughts aren't audible."

"Then how is it that I can hear yours?" Draco asked. "I know you're an overachiever, but now you're accomplishing the impossible. Do tell your secret."

"Do you enjoy acting like a first year?" Hermione growled under her breath.

"I thought you were above resorting to insults," Draco said. "Didn't you always lecture those buffoons on taking the high road?" His smirk grew wider at the glare she shot him.

"Careful Malfoy," Hermione warned. "No doubt you'd hate a repeat of our third year. Didn't you get beat up by a girl?" Draco grimaced at the threat. It was a memory he preferred to forget, and avoid repeating as Granger didn't pull her punches.

"No need to resort to violence," Draco said. "Honestly, if you're so desperate to get your hands on me there are far more pleasant methods." The strangled noise which emitted from Granger's throat was sheer triumph to Draco.

"As if I'd be interested in a ferret," she sniffed.

"Clearly you've forgotten ferrets and weasels are in the same family," Draco said. "Not to mention you've been collecting weasels for several years now, what's one additional ferret?" Hermione's eyebrows raised dramatically and her mouth fell open a bit.

"Besides it's polite to warn you before tossing you out of my study." It was an empty threat that they both knew would never be acted upon. Hermione rolled her eyes at him and turned back to her book.

Ipsy would murder Draco if he harmed her, and quite frankly Draco knew better than to antagonize his elf at the moment. The dark magic was proving resilient against Ipsy's efforts and it irritated the elf to no end. He'd been forcing potions down Hermione's throat for weeks in order to help her fight off the black goop which insisted on staying in her leg. Furthermore, Ipsy had threatened Draco with bodily harm after hearing him make a joke about Hermione's health; each threat thereafter was more graphic than the last. Unfortunately for Draco, he found the entire situation much less amusing than Hermione did.

"Are you always surly so early in the morning, or is it just today?" Hermione asked.

"You haven't turned a page in the past five minutes," Draco answered ignoring her question. He expected a haughty response. Instead a loud thud reached his ears, and attracting his attention. Granger's book had fallen onto the floor, and she was shaking.

"Fuck," He muttered pulled as his wand out. "Petrificus Totalus. Ipsy!" Within seconds, Ipsy was in the room and was Draco was unwrapping the blanket from Granger's knee. The newest solution they'd developed to treat her knee was a combination of potions and preventing all movement to Granger's knee. Unfortunately, she was unable to control the shaking that often took over her limbs; a nasty side effect from Dolohov. Preventing that was paramount since it helped create more of the dark magic.

"Finite," Draco said ending the spell keeping Granger perfectly still. They had learned the hard way that Hermione couldn't be under the spell when Ipsy removed the black magic.

"Just remain as still as possible," he said maneuvering behind her so he could help prevent her from moving. Hermione nodded silently as she gripped his forearms and leaned against him. She held herself tensely in anticipation of the pain.

"Remember you have to relax Granger," Draco reminded her. Ipsy was already growling under his breath as he pulled the nasty liquid out of Granger's knee. The dark magic was temperamental and fought back at anyone who was intent on removing it; which meant Ipsy had to wear gloves.

"Would you like to try it? It's rather difficult when your veins feel like they're on fire," Hermione hissed at him through gritted teeth. "Do we even know what this curse is?" She groaned in pain before attempting to speak again.

"I'd love to get my hands on the asinine idiot who created it and wring his neck."

"Pretty sure you already did Granger," Draco answered with a dark chuckle. He enjoyed Granger's habit of using bigger words and threats of violence when she was in pain. Despite his well rounded education in the Dark Arts, Draco had never heard about a curse like the one affecting her. No doubt Dolohov created it special just for Granger. Had the Aurors not found his body, Draco would've assumed he'd allowed Granger to escape so she could suffer for longer.

"Ipsy's going to clean the wound now," Ipsy said after continuously pulling the black ooze out. Hermione moaned in relief. "Miss' knee is much better. The chair will be unnecessary soon." The little house elf was sweating and looked less frustrated than normal. After Ipsy cast the cleansing charms, and other spells he used to help heal the tissue damage he vanished the black magic they'd drained into a bucket. Draco helped him put the muggle brace that Hermione was stuck wearing back on her leg, and knowing she'd be hungry he moved her from the window seat to the nearby wheelchair.

"Ipsy, how much longer until I can walk again?" Hermione asked as Draco pushed her to the kitchen. She normally insisted on controlling the chair herself, but draining the black magic typically exhausted both Ipsy and Granger.

"As long as it doesn't spread this should be the last treatment," Ipsy answered. "Master was right to stop the shaking. Shaking grows the magic."

Draco's kitchen was one of the rooms they spent a lot of time in. It was clean and comfortable, as well as incredibly well stocked. After getting Hermione settled into her usual chair, he started breakfast for all three of them. Tea was always made first since Ipsy and Granger loved it. He still wasn't comfortable with the fact that he knew Granger's tea preferences even with having a month to adjust.

At least she appreciated his cooking. Ipsy had taught him as a child when he hid from his father. The first time she'd seen him cook, Granger had made a bitchy comment about her astonishment over his ability to feed himself. He'd expected her to grovel when he insulted her assumptions. Instead the chit had the audacity to fight with him. He realized too late that she thought it was fun..

Living with Granger was easy. He'd expected one of them to kill the other, but they oddly worked well together. She respected his space, and was quiet. After living under a house full of Death Eaters, all Draco wanted was to control who entered his home. He'd had all stability and control ripped away from him as he watched evil men destroy his family's possessions. It was part of the reason he'd moved to the muggle world. Even if he had friends or acquaintances they wouldn't be able to find his home and invade. Granger was different. She handled everything with care, and usually asked permission before she just grabbed something. Even when she invaded his study and took over his window seat it didn't bother him. To him, it was Granger's window seat.

"Draco?" Her voice pulled him from his thoughts and he looked over to her. She nodded towards Illyia who'd been trying to get his attention.

"Yes Illyia?" he asked surprised he'd been sitting down eating. How did he get so lost in his own mind that he didn't know he'd finished cooking breakfast? His eyes darted to Granger to make sure he'd fed her too. He had. Illyia, by this point, was tugging on his sleeve out of frustration as she tried to hand him the day's post.

"The Wonder Duo finally announced that you're missing," Draco said skimming the front page article which signaled that his morning was about to implode.

"What?" Hermione asked looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Did Kingsley owl you?"

"No," he answered. The paper was magically ripped out of his hands before he finished speaking. Draco ignored the mild annoyance and instead focused on the fact that Granger's strength was returning enough to let her use wandless and silent magic.

"Are they out of their fucking minds?" Granger hissed as she read the article. "War Hero, Hermione Granger - a prominent muggle born witch, who was instrumental in the war against You Know Who according to statements made by Mr. Harry Potter is allegedly missing. Mr. Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley have stated that Ms. Granger has disappeared from the Weasley ancestral home and gone without contact for over a month. Both men assured reporters that this behavior is most unlike the young woman.

If this allegation is accurate, it may suggest that Death Eaters are seeking out revenge for the fall of the Dark Lord and their new criminal status. However, it is imperative to remember that Ms. Granger, prior to the war had displayed extreme amounts of ambition. Ms. Granger has a terrible habit of collecting wizards with excellent financial prospects only to leave when she spies a better target. With this in mind, it begs the question of whether Ms. Granger is missing or simply moving on. Her behavior during her school years suggested that she was a scarlet woman in training, and classmates weren't shy about suggesting that she was making love potions - which is still highly illegal."

"They're calling that shack an ancestral home?" Draco asked snorting. "Hasn't she ever seen the bloody place."

"Is that really the first question you want to ask?" Hermione asked glaring at him. "The entire article is rubbish. Honestly, I'm just 'moving on?"

"Is it though? I mean who could blame you for running away from the Weasel's slobbering attempts of seduction?" Draco asked. "I've half a mind to call Skeeter and tell her you're living with me." He promptly received a glare from Hermione.

"Glad you're amused," Hermione said. Draco grinned at the scowl on her face.

"Just imagine the reactions when the world finds out you dumped Weasley for a Death Eater," Draco said. "Skeeter would have a field day with it."

"My life is none of their business," Hermione said. "Where the bloody hell does this woman get off thinking she can make money off of me?"

"I did warn you about that," Draco said. "You know how Skeeter is better than anyone. She'll keep digging until she's got the information, and then embellish it. She's smart enough to demand why the MLE won't file a missing person report."

"I hate that woman," Hermione snarled. "What the fuck were they thinking? I'm going to hex them good when I find out who made the decision to involve Rita Skeeter."

"Despite knowing I will regret suggesting this," Draco said before pausing as though it physically pained him to continue speaking. "You should let those two idiots of yours know that you're alive."

"No," Hermione said shaking her head. "Absolutely not."

"Granger, those two idiots took a front page ad out about your disappearance. This isn't going away. The Daily Prophet will exploit this and you know it." Draco said. "When you finally reappear, the public will explode with questions. Trust me when I tell you that you're not going to want to deal with it."

"I'm not going to see them," Hermione said stubbornly.

"Then send a bloody owl!" Draco yelled exasperated with the situation. "I know better than to believe you're suddenly over the Wonder Duo, as much as that would delight me. What is your problem?"

"They didn't even notice I was missing!" Hermione bellowed at him. "Am I really so replaceable that it's taken them six months to realize that I hadn't contacted them or come home?!"

"I've always said that you were the brains behind the two of them," Draco said. "I never understood why the Dark Lord wasted time with Potter. He should have been terrified of you."

"Ron and Harry wouldn't have survived their first year; much less the war without me," Hermione said unable to control the venom leaking into her voice. "They hid in a dungeon while your aunt tortured me. Harry tried to apologize for it. He kept insisting that it wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for him. He always has to take the blame, as though saying sorry absolves him of his guilt."

"Spit it out Granger," Draco said. "It's obvious that you want to say something."

"Why should he get to say, 'sorry, it's all my fault?" She asked. "As if apologizing is good enough? My parents are dead. I had to watch them die from torture after they screamed that they'd never met me; that they had no daughter. Why should Harry get to apologize and just walk away?!"

Finally. He'd been waiting for this explosion. Granger had been apathetic since waking up. She refused to discuss what happened with Dolohov outside of how Draco had found her, nor did she wish to discuss her parents. It wasn't long until he realized she was even avoiding the 'd been worried for the first two weeks until she finally left her had walked into his study to work when he saw her in the window seat. Despite his shock he made a snarky comment and got to work. After the third day of finding her there, he knew she just needed time.

"What about the Weasel?" Draco asked pushing her to continue.

"Ron has a perverse need to be right. He'll be gleeful that 'the Brightest Witch Her Age' finally messed up," Hermione said mimicking Ron's voice as she spoke. The bitterness was heavy in her voice.

"Even if he's empathetic about their deaths, he'll be unable to refrain from saying he was right. He'll never let go that I made such a monumental mistake."

"He's never possessed tact," Draco said. "You do realize he'd be wrong, right? The only person who's responsible is Dolohov." She gave a soft nod, although they both knew that she didn't believe him.

"I don't understand why they didn't they go to the Magical Law Enforcement Department? It's not like they aren't on a first name basis with Kingsley! Instead the two morons contact Rita Skeeter and have her write an op ed."

"Only they know why," Draco said shrugging. "I'm not saying you have to see them. Merlin knows I don't want them in my house. Just send them a note. At least that way you can avoid the drama of publicity."

"What do I even say?" Hermione asked. "They'll demand to see me. Hell they'll probably follow the owl back to the house. You know how they persistent they are."

"They won't," Draco said. "Ipsy, do we have any parchment lying around." Unfortunately, Draco didn't employ obedient elves, and instead of answering his question Ipsy scowled at him.

"Potter Brat doesn't deserve note," Ipsy grumbled.

"What?" Hermione asked as Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ipsy, what are you talking about?"

"Master asked to meet with Potter Brat before Miss Hermione woke up," Ipsy said. "Boy Wonder refused."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Hermione asked Draco.

"You were unconscious," Draco answered.

"Don't be cute," Hermione said. "What did Harry say?"

"Potter Brat doesn't meet with war criminals," Ipsy answered in a perfect imitation of Draco's usual sneer. Hermione's mouth promptly fell open as she stared at her roommate.

"Master Draco sent Ipsy to request a meeting. Potter Brat gave his reply to Ipsy directly," the elf said before Draco could speak.

"I'm going to murder him," Hermione said. "Ipsy would you please bring me parchment and a quill?" The elf nodded and climbed out of his seat at the table to retrieve the materials. Draco wanted to hex the elf.

"In Potter's defense, Ipsy only asked him to meet me. You weren't mentioned at all," Draco said.

"It doesn't excuse what he said to you," Hermione said shaking her head. He knows better than that." Draco shrugged and realized his appetite was completely gone. "I mean it. Harry had no right. Thanks Ipsy." She started writing a message and a moment later stared at what she was holding.

"Is this a pen?" Hermione asked confused. "Why do you have a pen?"

"You've spent how much time in my study and you're just now asking this question?" Draco asked surprised that she hadn't noticed it before. "I like them better. There's no risk of spilling ink everywhere."

"How do you even know what they are?"

"I live in muggle London," Draco answered. "Do you really think I've never explored the area around the apartment?" She rolled her eyes at him, but had a small smile on her face.

Mornings had changed for Draco since the end of the war. As a child he wasn't permitted to sleep in since Lucius believed it would spoil him. Instead he rose with his parents each day and then had to follow his father around learning how to be a Malfoy. Once the Dark Lord took up residence in their drawing room, it was no longer safe to even try sleeping late. Now that he was on his own, Draco took advantage of the new freedom, although he'd been trying to be awake when Hermione was to join her for breakfast.

Today, however, he found it impossible to crawl out from under the covers. No doubt the result of working late into the night on multiple occasions. Unfortunately, Ipsy had other plans and continued to disturb him until he was too awake to fall back asleep. He was looking for his wand while Ipsy danced around his feet, constantly muttering about the kitchen and pushing the back of his knees.

"Blasted elf," Draco cursed. "Can I at least find my wand?!"

"In the kitchen," Ipsy insisted before shoving him again. This time Draco complied, and as he walked towards the room that his elf pushed him towards he realized Granger was screaming obscenities. Groaning he thought about ignoring it all and just going back to his room. One look from his house elf told him that Ipsy wouldn't stand for it. His eardrums nearly imploded when he walked through the kitchen door and went straight to the coffee which was thankfully already brewed. Once he'd managed to acquire a cup he leaned against the counter and watched Granger yell into a howler.

"Ronald Weasley! How dare you publish a personal letter I sent you and Harry in order to reassure you both of my safety despite the intense urge to hex you both before feeding you to Hagrid's spiders for involving Rita Skeeter in an incredibly personal situation!"

Draco couldn't help the smirk on his face. He'd left Granger alone after she'd punched him in their third year because of how vicious the girl was when provoked. Merlin how did these two idiots manage to piss her off so badly she was sending a howler?

"Harry James Potter, I'd wipe that look off your face. You're just as responsible for Ron sending her that letter. You should have stopped him, and I have no doubt that it was your brilliant idea to involve the woman in the first place. After everything we've been through together, have I not earned the right to privacy? Are you both so controlling that you can't give me even a bit of time to sort things out as I requested?!"

Granger was good at the guilt trip. Merlin, he felt a bit bad just listening to her rant at Potter and Weasel.

"I never imagined that Professor Snape was right about your mental capacities, but apparently you really are both idiots. Both of you are on a first name basis with the Minister of Magic! If the DMLE refused to file a missing person's report why the bloody hell didn't you have Kingsley simply override the decision?! Of course that is assuming you actually spoke to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Let me be perfectly clear. You will make these articles stop and don't expect to see me until you pull your heads out of your asses."

Draco snorted into his coffee cup.

"Do not open until both Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter are present," Hermione said to the howler. She magically sealed it and then called for Ipsy. "Please mail this out as soon as possible," she said with a small smile.

"What did the idiots do to warrant a Howler?" Draco asked. She threw the days Daily Prophet at him. Glancing at the headline he grimaced.

The mysterious circumstances surrounding Ms. Granger's disappearance has already intensified since Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley first broke the news. No one has yet seen Ms. Granger, and there has been little speculation shared on where she might go. Investigative reporting has led to the discovery that Ms. Granger's parents closed up their dental practice - a muggle health dealing with teeth - during the war. No one seems to know of their whereabouts, and they haven't been heard from since they left.

Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter did receive a letter claiming that Ms. Granger was safe, and simply living in London. Mr. Potter, although not entirely convinced that the letter is authentic, agreed with Mr. Weasley that it was important enough to share with the Wizarding Community in order to get to the bottom of Ms. Granger's disappearance. Unfortunately, since reading the letter, I am resigned to thinking that Ms. Granger has returned to her nasty habit of breaking hearts for her own gain.

My Dearest Ron and Harry,

Writing to you has never been this difficult. Each attempt feels as though I'm cutting out my own heart. I know the both of you must be out of your minds with grief, and I'm so sorry that my absence is causing you pain. I saw the article in the Daily Prophet. I'm so sorry that you felt you had to resort to such measures to get my attention. Please rest assured that I am safe and settled in London. I'm sorry for the lack of contact, and I know you're just concerned.

Unfortunately, circumstances being what they are I felt the need to leave post haste. Staying would only create more complications, and confusion for our families. I was so careless, and now I don't know how to fix this. I need more time. I know that it's incredibly selfish of me to cut both of you out at a time like this, but please believe it's the best decision for all of us.

Please forgive me.

Hermione

If the letter is authentic, the wizarding world can rest easy knowing that Ms. Granger's life isn't in imminent danger. However, as previously speculated it does sound as though Ms. Granger is simply hiding away from Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. If I were a wagering witch, I'd put a galleon on Ms. Granger returning in about nine months.

"Merlin," Draco muttered as he scanned the article.

"You can see why I'm upset?" Hermione asked as she lifted a teacup to her mouth. Draco nodded as he suspiciously eyed the decanter of Firewhiskey that was sitting on the table. The teapot wasn't in sight.

"It's clear you didn't write this," Draco said. "It's far too simpering to pass as yours. Frankly I'm rather disgusted."

"It's not the letter I actually sent," Hermione said. "However, I have no doubt that she's seen the real one. There are too many similarities between the two. I gather that she simply added to it."

"I've never liked your sidekicks," Draco said. "Still, I have a hard time believing they'd send your letter to Skeeter."

"Ronald can be unbelievably stupid when he's angry," Hermione said. "Honestly the whole situation is ridiculous. Her suggestions are disgusting."

"I'll say," Draco agreed. "Who the hell would buy that you're in a love triangle with Potter and Weasel, and one of them knocked you up?"

"Based on her previous accusations, anyone who needs a life and doesn't know the three of us personally," Hermione answered. "I can't believe they'd think I'd be happy about them sending a private letter to a reporter."

"Well your boyfriends miss you," Draco said. "They're probably just wondering who the squib you're carrying belongs to."

"Can't you be a bit sympathetic?" Hermione asked exasperated.

"No," Draco answered.

"I'm starting to remember why we weren't friends in school," Hermione muttered. Draco was surprised to hear himself laugh at the statement.

"On that note, do you always resort to stealing wands? I thought that the Dark Lord just made that up to gather more support from halfbloods and purebloods," Draco said as he gestured towards his wand which was in her hand. Hermione turned bright pink and her mouth fell open. He realized then that she'd snuck into his room to retrieve it, and momentarily Draco wanted to kick Ipsy for acting like he was insane to think his wand should be in his bedroom.

"I'm so sorry!" She said thrusting the wand towards him. "I saw the article and just snapped. How idiotic Harry and Ron are behaving at the moment just infuriated me after I specifically asked them for more time. I just needed to send a howler, and I don't have a wand so I borrowed yours. I should have asked knowing how personal sharing wands is considered."

"Granger, it's fine," Draco said. "I'm not worried about you stealing my wand."

"Oh I know that," Hermione said flippantly. "I just thought you'd be worried about the natural bonds which can show up when borrowing someone else's wand."

"How do you know about that?" Draco asked staring at her in surprise. "Most of the wizarding world isn't aware of natural bonds at all, much less that they can take when sharing wands. Hell very few pureblooded families still pass down those stories."

"Oh," Hermione said clearly embarrassed again. "Well I lived in the Black Family Manor with Harry for a bit. Sirius gave me free access to his library, and I found books about the bonds. After Harry's wand snapped and he took mine without asking I freaked out."

"Not interested in bonding with Potter?" Draco asked.

"No," Hermione said. "Harry's a brother to me. I find the idea of having anything other than a sibling bond rather horrific. Although, I was surprised that we aren't taught more about wandlore in school, especially considering how different interactions can affect a wands allegiance."

"I asked my mother why we weren't taught it at Hogwarts once," Draco said before taking a sip of tea. "She pointed out that most students would be more interested in stealing wands from each other." Hermione started laughing at the suggestion.

"I have no doubt that you and Harry would have constantly been stealing each other's wand," Hermione said. "Perhaps your mum is right. I really am sorry though that I didn't ask."

"Granger relax," Draco said. "I'm not worried about it. Where's your wand?"

"I lost my original one the night Harry, Ron, and I were caught by snatchers," Hermione said in a matter of fact tone. "After we escaped, I ended up with your Aunt's wand. It didn't like Harry at all, but it was compatible with my magic; much to my disgust. I've been using it ever since, but Dolohov snapped it in Australia."

Draco stared at her suddenly grateful that his father had beat him until he learned to keep a straight face. He'd be gaping like a fish at the moment otherwise.

"Granger, how'd you get back from Australia without a wand?" Draco asked. His mind was running frantic trying to think of how she'd managed international travel without a wand. Apparition was impossible, anyone who attempted that far of a distance would splinch themselves or likely drown in one of the oceans.

"I don't know," Hermione answered. "I was in an out of consciousness a lot towards the end. Most of my memory runs together, and is dark. I do remember an intense heat before the last time I blacked out, but after that I woke up in your apartment."

How in Merlin's name is she alive?

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked him concerned. "Are you worried about the implication that I may have just proved a century's worth of magical theory wrong?"

"Granger this isn't a time for a joke," Draco said. "International apparition would have killed you, and in the state you're in a portkey would've been impossible."

"Perhaps, we should just be thankful I'm alive," Hermione said softly. "I know I often demand all the answers, but after surviving a war along with two separate torture sessions, I'm willing to just be grateful. Although I suppose you do have a point; I'll need to go to Diagon Alley and get a new wand."

"Ipsy," Draco called out suddenly. "Bring me the mahogany box I asked you to guard." It was long and thin, similar to the boxes which hold wands. This one however was carved out of wood and had a beautiful intricate design. It looked ancient. Ipsy handed it to Draco who promptly pushed it towards Hermione who simply stared at him.

"Granger," Draco said indicating that she should take the box from him. Opening it she stared at the ten and three quarter inches of vine wood which was nestled inside. She didn't need to touch it to know that it possessed a dragon heartstring. It was so familiar and so foreign all at the same time. Staring at Draco, she suddenly realized he was babbling.

"I found it in the manor," he said. "Shortly after you left my father ordered me to collect the leftover wands. I hid yours in my room. Everyone was so furious that I was afraid they snap it or use it to implicate you in a crime. After I started cleaning the manor I sent all of the wands I found to the Auror Department."

"Except for mine," Hermione said looking at it without removing it from the box.

"I wanted to give it to you personally," Draco said. "I know that night...what my family did…" The words wouldn't come, and Hermione stopped him entirely when she flung her arms around him.

"It wasn't your fault," Hermione whispered. "I don't blame you at all."

Draco hadn't been hugged in this manner before and it was unsettling. The only person who'd ever shown him affection had been his mother, and as he'd gotten older those moments became increasingly rarer. This was different. Hermione was thanking him and comforting him simultaneously. Eventually he wrapped his arms around her, only tightening his grip when she squeezed him a second time.


End file.
